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Topic: Panzerknacker [IC] (Read 17674 times)

"It's a very difficult job and the only way to get through it is we all work together as a team. And that means you do everything I say."

Charlie Croker: The Italian Job

Seattle, November 5th, early morning

The sun hadn't rissen yet, but the cold, crisp air was clear and the steady wind from the sea promised a clear day. Giant automated freight ships landed and took of from Seattle harbor, leaving little grey clouds of exhaust in their wake. Dr. Schmitt took a sip from his thermos cup. The aroma of real Brazilian coffee filled the SUV while it's vapors slowly fogged the windows. The city hadn't changed appreciatively since he had been here the last time, but still...The passenger door opened and an Ork in a long coat sat himself unasked inside, rubbing life back into his cold fingers. Without a word Schmitt poured him a cup."Ah, that's better.""I assume you were successful?""Wasn't easy, they have gone to ground and the fixer wasn't in the mood to give out any info.""Can't say that I blame him. Looking out for the interest of his assets. But you know: Problems and opportunities - two sides of the same coin. Now out with it, have you found them?""Sure, at least there current contacts.""Excellent. And what about the other specialists?""I have three. Two mages and a rigger. Rather new on the scene.""Talent's hard to find. Alright. Send the invite and get the warehouse ready.""You've got it boss. Usual protocols.""As you say. Time to crack this nut once and for all."

Seattle, November 5th, noon

The day was remarkably warm for November, sun shine filled the city so that even the most grim looking troll couldn't help but smile. The serenity was broken by the various notification sounds and methods the various commlinks had. bnc, Krestov, Slobbertooth and Torrent received a message from a contact they hadn't heard from for almost a year: <<Greetings, based on our previous experiences I'd like to hire your team for a new mission. Don't worry, this time you won't have to travel far. Meet me this evening at 6 at Charly's Bar'n Grill, Steward street. Best regards, Dr. Schmitt.>>

Yael, Flatline and Kite found a similar message, but from their respective fixers, Debbie, Black-Eye Pete and Brian Delaney:<<Just got a job offer for you. Handsome S-K fellow, goes by Dr. Schmitt, want's to hire your talents for a big job. Says to come tonight to Charly's Bar'n Grill, Steward street around 6.>>

When Devon gets the message from Three-Toes, he quickly clears his schedule for the rest of the day, postponing a surgery and getting a nurse updated on his patients in the clinic. He goes to his lab/lodge to prep his gear and grab a nap. A few hours later he heads into town, taking his truck and parking it at a lot on the edge of Downtown and using public transportation to Seward. Knowing nothing more than the message he got, he arrives at Charly’s at 10 to 6, checks his medical bag and takes a seat at the bar to wait, ordering a beer but not drinking it.

Anna receives the message in her dormitory apartment as she was struggling to digest what her food processor passed as 'nutritious chicken flavored delight'... I wander if Debbie uses the word handsome with the same audacity that suffer home use the word 'delight'. She texted Debbie >> As long as he is 'handsome', I am in though he is probably old enough to be my dad.

The next text was to her friend Irene >> Something came up, I might cancel for the party tonight so make some alternative plans, will let you know. Should Anna be occupied that night she is going to miss a rap performance at the Banshee.

Anna projects to the meet about an hour before she physically go there, she scans the place for anything unusual, she'll arrive few minutes ahead of time as long as the scouting does not uncover anything unusual.

Slobbertooth was happy to see the message from Schmidt. It meant that things were at least about to get more interesting and less dangerous than his current life out in the barrens. Not unsurprising even though the last time the team had received a job from Schmidt it had involved submarines, blood mages, and Aztechnology commando teams. Commando squads were at least more predictable than BTL junkies too scrambled to realize he wasn't a dealer.

Josiah packed up his equipment into some of the duffel-bags he had "borrowed" from drug runners (after removing all of their "baking soda"), and threw his guns into their cases. Mounting his Suzuki Mirage, weighed down by all of the bags, Slobbertooth was sure that he made a strange sight as he tired to simultaneously keep everything in one place and drive safely at high speed. There wouldn't b e any slowing down. Just because he was familiar and could survive in the Barrens didn't keep him from relishing any opportunity to leave. He hoped that the combination of his helmet and jacket would do enough to cover his identity from any street cameras that might be prying at the odd motorcycle turned baggage train.

When Slobbertooth pulled up to the restaurant he parked in the lot and waited for Krestov to arrive with the team's truck. When Special K arrived, Slobbertooth gave him a nod and threw his duffel bags and excess worn equipment into the back of the Rover. He couldn't very well take a duffel bag filled with body armor, APDS ammunition and grenades into a restaurant and he certainly couldn't leave it sitting out in the open. He kept himself minimally armed, even taking off his helmet. This was a social call after all.

Taking off his respirator for the first time iin weeks, he smelled something foul. He initially thought it was just the "fresh" air in Seattle. After a little personal exploration, Slobbertooth realized it was his own musk earned from his time in hiding among trash without easy access to clean running water. He put his respirator back on and entered the restaurant. Hopefully this wouldn't be another seafood restaurant or he'd be ruining everyone else's dinner. Maybe the place wouldn't be crowded and he could sit in a corner and just ruin some other patron's meals.

[spoiler]Slobbertooth is armed with concealed Ruger loaded with gel ammunition. He has a smoke grenade and a single speedloader with APDS in his pocket.[/spoiler]

bnc had smiled when she saw Gerhard's face popping up before herself. Not so much after she'd read the message.

She began to text.<@Robin <hey pal i'm dead sorry i cnt cum today. there's Damn, what can be important enough to postpone a handsome doctor-to-be? Uhm...a really important meeta friend of mine. She's sick...no one's gonna believe that. Not anyone who'd be smart enough to entertain me a single week.a really important job interview. sry, I'll buy you a drink next time!>

Crap. No. That way I create a asymmetrical relationship definition, leaning towards him as the dominant part. That way, I am never going to get him to do anything for me.

Sighing, bnc deletes the message.

<@Robin <sorry robin. I really wanted to get to meet ya 2day. smthng really important came up, though. I'll tell u next time. What about 1 week later, 12th? kisses, bianca>Way better. Creating a kind of mystery to catch him on the hook. Taking the initiative, making him respond to me. A bit cocky, creating a frame in which I don't seem to depend on him. Friendly still, and a tiny bit of sex. Send!

Once the message is out, bnc yells out in frustration, hits the wall with her fist, screams FUCK at the next person she meets and buys herself a 500ml can of Pepper Plus (with cherry flavor).

Two hours and a bit of Whoom! later, she's way more relaxed. She does her routine homework (checking out Schmitt's commlink, doing a thourough research on his life, focussing on the last 365 days, but redoing all the stuff before for good measure, visiting the matrix representation of the restaurant, checking their matrix security and so on). She then dons tight leather pants, a yellow-red band shirt (over a proper push-up) and an equally tight leather jacket. After fixing the make up, she styles her hair into green spikes (she figures that her youth attracted him; no mistake in underlining that feature of hers) she takes public transports to the restaurant and arrives roughly 15 minutes early.

Before she enters the grill, she makes sure, her deck is switched off. She conceals Tom in a concealable holster then waits for the others to arrive.

When Devon enters the room, she eyes him carefully and takes a closer look at his commlink. Once Slob enters, she sits right next to him, then decides to shift a few inches further from him. "Hey, sempai. How's it hangin'?"

"Hey kiddo. Any big news from the rest of the team? Couldn't get a cable company to give me much access the past few months. They had some trouble finding the 'decrepit house next to a pile of trash'."

The space heater is on in the small hangar, albeit turned down to barely a hum. The locals are calling it a warm day today but Regina doesn’t trust it. She’s elbow-deep in the deconstructed engine of her plane, carefully removing components and arranging them on a towel spread across the folding table she’d dragged over.

She loves her new aircraft and feels indebted to Brian for hooking her up with it, but she doesn’t yet know it the way she knew her baby back home. The only thing to do, then, is disassemble and reassemble it until she can do it blindfolded. One-handed. While under fire.

There’s trashy, catchy pop music blaring from the speakers of the cheap shop stereo, but the volume is low enough for Gina to hear her ‘link sound off, reporting a message. “Volume one,” she calls out into the echo-y shop, and the music level drops accordingly. Wiping her grease-covered hands off on her coveralls, she strides over to the counter where her commlink and various other personal effects had been tossed when she’d arrived here early this morning. She reaches for the device, then hesitates, seeing what a poor job she’d done cleaning her hands off. Huffing a bit, both and frustration and to blow a sweaty strand of hair from in front of her eyes, she uses her cleanest knuckle to clumsily jab at the device, accept the message, and send it to the AR display of her one cybereye.

She reads the text a few times before blinking it away, waving at the air for effect. She turns to look in the direction of the garage door, having only now noticed that it had been opened. Brian Delaney stands there, leaning his shoulder against the threshold, smiling that idiot smile of his.

Regina gestures down at the now-greasy commlink, staring at her associate and mentor with a “what the frag” expression.

“What is wrong with you?”

“Felt more official to tell you that way,” he replies through his still-widening grin. “You should be excited! Finally something to do, so you stop pulling apart everything in my garage.”

Now she smiles too, dropping the ‘annoyed’ act. “Our garage. And I am excited; this is what I asked for. Thank you.”

He nods in response, happy to have made her happy. Then, after a moment: “Get out of here. Go get cleaned up and go to your meet. I’ll deal with…” he gestures exhaustively toward several hundred plane engine parts, “this.”

Regina glances back at the plane, then to Brian again, making a reluctant face. “I have time. I don’t want to give you work.” He waves a dismissive hand as he moves further into the garage, shutting the heater off as he goes. “No no no. Don’t make yourself late for your first job. Go.”

bnc looks in direction of the door, seeming distracted. She talks softly, yet the voice arrives clearly at Slob's ear. It might take him a moment to realize, she's sending a digital copy of what she's saying to Josiah's commlink, perfectly synchronised with the actual sound waves. For an instant, it appears almost magical, her talking softly into a different direction in a semi-crowded bar, yet her voice arriving him as clearly as spring water.

"No, can't say I have. I've been checking on Krestov on an irregular basis, but I haven't heard from Torrent. I'm ... I don't know. I'm struggling to get a way outta here. Y'know, fighting for survival, stealing, killing ... it's a step on my ladder, or so I hope."

After scouting the perimeter for a while astrally for a while, Yael showers and leaves home to Charly's Bar'n Grill. She is wearing a classy black dress and conceal a gun on her left thigh. It is her trusty Ares Predator, her very first gun that she outfitted over the years with all sorts of improvements. The gun fits her skin color perfectly due to the miraculous ruthenium polymer.

The same polymer that allows Yael to appear richer than she really is as her very expansive 'Rising Huntress' dress can appear like many possible clothes and even turn her invisible. As Yael enters the Bar she quickly turns off all her wireless devices, including her comlink. She is always nervous before these meets. The Johnson are usually alright, they follow rules that Yael can understand, they are part of society, it is other runners that are often dangerous as they are detached from society and are sometimes borderline sociopaths. "You can get along with anyone... " she reminds herself as she seats on the bar. Addressing the bartender she orders some wine, and slowly nurse her drink as she scans the place for the people she needs to meet.

bnc frowns ever so slightly after Yael's entry. She sure was a looker in that dress, and not only compared to bnc, who, despite spending more effort in looking nice than anyone of the team members hase ever seen her do, was still yet another scrawny, pale teenage girl - she had no hips, no boobs, no ass, and a look into her eyes won't make you long for her, except you're a doctor with a good heart and a feeling for responsibility. bnc hates her the instants she enters the room - she never gave a damn about her looks, but this damn night she wanted to be pretty. A single time. It's not her you hate, slitch. It's yourself. Put your money in false boobs rather than drugs, and you won't look like a zombie. Cut it out.She averts her gaze, sees the trusted (yet disturbing) face of good ol' Slobber. Stop projecting your self-hatred to people who did well in their life. It's your fault you're all fucked up, no-one else's.I can't allow myself to drag me down in self-pity the day Schmitt's Johnson again. I can't

"Slitch", bnc mutters under her breath, and then orders a double-shot, the cheapest on the menu.

In her efforts to distract herself, she forgets the one thing she actually intended to do: check whether or not the mysterious woman has a commlink running silent or no.

Yael instinctively understands that an attractive woman seating alone at a bar attracts attention. She needs to find some companion to blend in, but whom? She looks around a bit looking for some easy mark and as she does - she notice someone that is clearly checking Yael out. A girl, Yael is used to male attention, she get plenty of that - and rejects most of it, as many men simply want what they cannot have. Female attention... is rare and far between, the girl is dressed in a tight black leather and green spikes and these leave quite an impression.

"Lets see what she really look like" thinks Yael as she opens her third eye and peer into the astral world. Looking at peoples aura's is one of Yael's most efficient gigs. Typically Debbie calls and asks Yael to check someone out. As a full mage, Yael can do that without even leaving her home. Easy money, few seconds of work for a hundred dollars, If only Debbie had enough of this work so that Yael could sustain herself...

At that point, Yael is without access to technology as the most cautious thing she can do is to keep off the grid. Yet, she needs to find the people she intends to meet somehow. If she cannot just identify them by observation and in the astral she'll open her link. As a professional mage, Yael expects to identify the other runners with their unusual aura's.

Charly's Bar & Grill is a lovely two story building with a very old-timey atmosphere of a western saloon: The bar was made from real wood and a large mirror has been installed behind the racks filled with all kinds of real alcoholica. A very enticing smell wafted from the kitchens, telling of spare ribs, mutton chops, t-bone steaks and fried chicken - the real stuff. A look into the AR menu shows that this is also reflected in the prices: Even the cheapest meal here was five times as expensive as what you usually consume.

bnc's search on Dr. Schmitt didn't return anything useful: Whatever the good Dr. had been up to in the last year, he certainly hadn't published anything about it on the matrix - or let anyone connect him to his current identity. Neither did she know which commlink he currently used - he had after all given her his after the last job. The restaurant itself, had a host the same as those of countless other businesses, displaying infos on the food and controlling all electronics of the building.

While the runners watched each other and their environment, they became aware of an older looking orc. It took Krestov a moment before he recognized him as Mike, the janitor from the research facility. One by one the orc went to all summoned runners and told them to follow him upstairs to a secluded booth.

Dr. Schmitt waited already. He hadn't changed much since the last time the team had seen him: Tall, dark blond with ice blue eyes and rimless glasses and a surprisingly warm and genuine looking smile on his face. A quick matrix check revealed that he had no active electronics of any kind on him. "Ah, welcome. Have a seat, orders are on me. Mike would you kindly close the door and get the security measures going? Thanks."

Qwikfix

Months of living on the edge of society. Months of keeping a low profile and not to attract attention...something that can be a challenge for someone of his stature, but he made it work. Sustaining himself by performing the tasks befitting a migrant worker, he kept his head down and mouth shut, living mostly off the bike and van for quite some time. As he was the least implicated in that fateful assassination, he took it upon himself to stow away the team's more conspicuous gear in a nondescript storage unit. But now getting that contact from Schmidt....and the following text from Slobbertooth, the harried-looking troll straightened up for the first time in a while. Now...he had purpose again.

Renting out a motel for an hour, he managed to clean himself up, redonning his gear, the armored clothes that made him the unstoppable wall he was built to be. Grabbing the gear, he loaded up the van and proceeded to the restaurant. Once there, he confirmed his arrival with Slobbertooth in a brief text before heading inside.

His longcoat, worn to stave off the November rain, concealed much of him at first, but it was evident that his time off the radar had an effect on him. His face sported a couple lines, making him look a few years older, and as he approached the area where Slobbertooth and bnc were sitting, it was increasingly clear he had put on some weight as well. His eyes caught the myriad of faces lingering about, her cybernetic blues logging them in case as he acknowledged his teammates with a grunt. He barely got any more words in before he spotted Mike, and the troll grunted as well to indicate recognition.

When it was his turn, he followed the older orc into the back room, moving slowly and measuredly as he sat down, seeing the team that assembled...

What you find out by assensing her:First, and most insistent impression: bnc's state of mind is a highly-complex whirlwind of emotions and cognitions that almost causes headache to perceive. Whereas many people have one dominant emotion, or two intermingling, in bnc's case it is a weird and complex mixture. You can sense hatred, fear, shame, envy, spontaneous anger, clear calm focus and a deep sullen sadness, each of them coming not in one, but two or three varieties, all present at once. At the moment, shame and anger are dominant, but even these facettes are even changing while you have a look on her. Assensing her is slightly depressing, the astral equivalent of watching a documentary about child prostitution or something.

Still, your astral senses are sharp and you can read way more than that in her aura: It's damaged. The faint colors tell you, despite the fact that her aura is very effective, that substance abuse and undernourishment have left severe marks. The girl's an addict, clear as rain, but at least sober at the moment. Also, you can locate mostly off-the-shelve cyberware in her head (three of them covering all of her brain, one a chunk of black roughly the size of her palm), in both of her hands, a small system of wires and pieces distributed between her heart and her head, a datajack and a replacement of both her hair and parts of her skin (head and shoulders). Her essence rating is 4.41.[/spoiler]

What? 50 nuyen for a shot?? Jesus, back home I can live two days off this... bnc hesitates before ordering, and withdraws. She's got to keep up her pennies until she finds a proper source o' them. Her eyes dart to the woman nervously. Then their eyes meet. bnc, though growing just a tinge paler, faces her gaze. Then she sees a small flicker in Yael's eyes. She can't put her finger on it, but something had caused the flicker. A message?No. She's got no commlink switched off.Wait. No commlink. Female, obviously no warrior. Waiting in a place like this. For ... For Gerhard? There's only one way she can gather information without ANY online gear. Only one thing our team lacks and direly needed before. Can she be..?

bnc's stomach contracts like a fist. She immediately averts her gaze, but too late to prevent Yael from seeing the terror and the shame in bnc's eyes.She Assensed me. This is so embarassing. That slut, impossible for me to read with everything turned off, can read every fucking shit. 'Anorexic drug addict, disrupted mental status, psycho' is practically tattoed on my forehead.bnc focusses on the plate of wood before her face. For Slobbertooth and Krestov, who's just entering the room, her discomfort is as obvious as a startled rhino would be. It's like she could strip me down with her gaze alone. I feel naked. Exposed. To this perfect, beautiful, rich, cool magician.I need to go to the restroom, Slob. I-I got something in my eye... bnc shuts her eyes, lest Slob sees her upcoming tears, but her voice is about to crack.

Mike arrives at the most unlucky moment. Excuse me, sempai, I'll be right back.Not waiting for an answer, bnc rushes into the restroom.

Yael observes bnc and summarizes for herself "Definitely a shadow-runner, not a sociopath" the girl clearly has emotional issues, drug issues and issues about issues, but she does not appear the be the murdering kind. "With all these head augmentations she is probably smarter than myself, a rigger perhaps." By association, she also assenses the orc next to her, his aura appears mundane at first but then there is something beyond that impression, a mask. "An initiated awakened, now I am definitely looking at the right people. He is too skilled for me to see much more than that though." She sighs "Initiated awakened, expensive augmentations, I may be above of my pay grade." Yael is about to initiate conversation with another guy that is alone at the bar when Mike sends for her.

"Here goes, make a good impression" She thinks to herself as she walks gracefully toward the private booth.

[spoiler]I assumed that Yael assensed also Slober and for 1 net hit basically she knows that he is awakened (and initiated - so she'll be a bit intimidated as a non initiated mage).

Bnc's 7 hits in perception are enough to notice that Yael pays with a credstick and that she is not really waiting for anyone to join her - her eyes do not intuitively scan anyone that walks into the room. She seems a bit distracted, as if she is interacting with AR - coupled with the fact that she has no active wireless devices assensing is a logical conclusion. Also, Yael is a bit anxious, though not at the crisis levels of bnc. She is comfortable with the dress she is wearing, and with the attention it brings her.

If bnc is interested in fashion she can probably place the model 'Rising Huntress' a very expensive dress with Ruthenium polymer that can dramatically change it appearance and even render the wearer nearly invisible. (Mechanically a sleeping tiger - fluffed to be something a lady would wear). [/spoiler]